Maternal Joy and Sorrow.
The Princess had begun her new life in her new home with illness.
Only her wonderful energy had enabled her to bear the fatigues of her
public reception whilst labouring under great physical discomfort. On
the third day after her public entrance the Princess was attacked by
the measles, though fortunately only slightly, and the illness was not
of long duration. After the great excitement of the last weeks the
enforced quiet could only be desirable. How happy the Princess felt in
her new surroundings a little poem shows which she inscribed in her
Journal on the 12th of December 1869:--
“From a gladsome month a jubilee song
Soars up to the skies above,
Like the lark’s song saying, so clear and strong,
‘What a beautiful world to love!’”
After her recovery the first expedition the Princess made was to
Cotroceni, which is situated on a height at ten minutes’ distance from
Bucharest. It is an old monastery, surrounded by a thickly wooded park,
which the Prince had arranged as a country house for the summer. Not
far off, beyond the green trees, the shining domes of the Asyle Hélène,
an educational establishment for young orphan girls, are seen. From
this height the view of Bucharest is also very fine. This is nearer to
the town than the station, and the coming and going in the wood-paved
streets can be distinctly perceived. Women in their dazzlingly white
linen and embroidered garments are seen busily painting their cottages
white and their windows red and blue. These cottages are roofed with
wooden tiles, and lie scattered between the gorgeous palaces of the
Boyards. Under the willows and alders on the banks of the Dimbovitza
lie magnificent buffaloes, idly resting, and half lost to view in the
deep mud and the green foliage. Only their expressive faces with their
immense horns are still visible. Carriages drawn by eight and sometimes
twelve little horses rush by at full gallop. A boy guides them with one
hand. His fiery glances and his fur cap placed on one side of his head
lead one to gather that he is not of a sort to stop at any danger.
Carmen Sylva has drawn a lively picture of these characteristics of the
Roumanian coachman in her poem called “The Post.” Here artistic ideas
meet one at every turn, for amidst such surroundings everything groups
itself into a picture, especially during the oriental sunsets, the
glowing colours of which blend harmoniously.
Now the life of duty which her exalted station imposed upon her began
for the Princess--“It is only in Roumania that something remains to be
done,” she had exclaimed in fun. And now she stood face to face with
her coveted sphere. A large field of labour, till now uncultivated, lay
before her. The first thing was to become acquainted with the soil and
its resources. In this the large Court receptions could not help her.
Consequently Princess Elizabeth had arranged that each lady who wished
to pay her respects at Court was to be separately received by her.
Being exceptionally free from prejudice, she now learnt to understand
the true worth of people, and to realise what they thought and felt.
“It was too disagreeable to me,” she said, “to have to say things
during the State receptions which I did not really mean. In order not
to be false, I endeavoured to feel the interest which I expressed.
Every human being is in want of sympathy. And now every one interests
me, and I find them all interesting. Consequently I do not now find
the audiences tiresome; on the contrary, I look forward to them. The
smallest thing I do must be done with my whole heart if it is to
succeed, and the least thing I am will require all my power if I am to
be anything.”
The beginning of the year 1870 brought with it many tears. There were
many conflicts and confusions in the Administration. The Franco-German
War having been declared, her brother, Prince William of Wied, had
responded to the call of his country, and received an officer’s
commission in the general staff of the army corps. His mother, his
bride, and his sister trembled for his life. But he passed through
the field of battle unscathed, and was decorated with the iron cross
as a reward of his valour. On the 7th of September Princess Elizabeth
received a letter from Prince William, written from Sedan, with the
news of victory. At noon on the following day, the 8th of September,
twenty-one salvos of artillery announced to the inhabitants of
Bucharest that a daughter was born to their princely house. A few hours
later the Metropolitan appeared in full dress. He held the sacred Ikon
over the mother and the child in its cradle, blessed them with holy
water, and repeated the customary prayers.
The new-born Princess was baptized into the orthodox Greek Church, and
received the name of “Marie.” The news of the event was received with
great joy through the country--“God bless the new citizen of Roumania,
and may she grow up to be the joy of her parents and a blessing to her
country.” This was the devout wish of many thousands of people. The
tiny Princess became forthwith almost the most important personage in
the whole of Roumania. Every one was interested in her welfare, and she
seemed to belong to all, for she was born in the country.
Princess Elizabeth was intensely devoted to her beloved child. She was
filled with the sacred feeling of happy motherhood. The radiant eyes of
her child changed the face of the world to her. She had a still deeper
sympathy for the sorrows of others, and their happiness became but a
reflection of her own. As a recollection of this time she wrote in her
Journal at a later date the following poem, entitled